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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23186050">Dissolution</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/el_veleno/pseuds/el_veleno'>el_veleno</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Red vs. Blue</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, F/M, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 16:40:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>13,141</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23186050</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/el_veleno/pseuds/el_veleno</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Dead means dead, right?</p>
<p> As the aftermath of the war on Chorus teases to be something of a happy ending, the dead live again, and the possibility of perfection comes crashing down. When things twist and change to present more possibilities than one could even dream of, one is left to question, Is there actually a way to make things right? And if so, how can someone make the right choices to get there?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Felix | Isaac Gates/Locus | Samuel Ortez, Locus | Samuel Ortez/Agent Washington</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Morality</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em> Making things right. </em> That’s what he had said. No... <em> promised.  </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Just seconds before, his mind had been clear, his decisions, his thoughts and feelings fell into place to create the perfect opportunity, the perfect solution to the problems drowning him. But as Locus found himself walking away, from the reds and blues, from <em> Felix </em> , he found his mind returning to it’s crazed state. <em> What the hell just happened? </em>He felt the words, unsure if he let them slip from his mouth, or if they had just seemed so loud in his head. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<em> You killed innocent people.” </em> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>How could a statement like that go from meaning absolutely nothing to him to carrying such a heavy burden now? The more he thought about what Tucker had said, what they all had said, the heavier his feet felt beneath him. It was hard to think, hard to move, and when he just dismissed it as no more than his injuries from before, his mind snapped back. It was more, so much more than the physical injuries he had endured. It was a change in morality, a change within himself. Something he couldn’t put into words. </p>
<p>It felt wrong to leave. The awkward sense of change told him to stay, to own his mistakes. But there seemed to be enough of a soldier left to keep him moving. Whether or not it fit into the new voice nagging at him in his mind, Locus was leaving Chorus. He wanted to prove himself. Even if the only person who cared was him. What was it <em> he </em> said? <em> I’m doing this for me. </em> That was it, this was for him. </p>
<p>He knew where he was going, the coordinates of a ship Felix had located had always been at the back of his mind, and when he had made his decision to go against his <em> partner, </em>he made sure it was fresh. He remembered the day Felix had told him. They were meeting to discuss one of their more valuable men who had decided to abandon the mission, something Locus was furious about. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “Keep it off the record, Hargrove never knows, and it’s not our problem. We’ll say he got lost and all we found was his gun or something.” Felix was ready to dismiss the matter, shrugging as he paced around Locus.  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “It’s desertion.” Locus grumbled the words out, one hand pinching the bridge of his nose. The other was occupied holding his helmet at his side.  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “You hated the guy, I don’t know why you’re complaining here. I lost the only person who knows how to have a good time around here. Just let me mourn this in peace,” He had stopped in front of Locus, a forcefully exasperated sigh leaving his body. </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “It’s not right, that’s not protocol.” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> At that moment, he could sense the sarcasm and lighthearted dismissal drain from Felix’s mood. He turned, facing Locus now, taking two steps closer to him and leaning forward, their faces just inches apart.  “Hargrove won’t know the difference.”  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> He met Felix’s eyes, biting his tongue to avoid arguing, following the spiel with a rough, “Fine.”  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> The answer satisfied his partner, and the harshness was gone just as soon as it had been apparent.  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “And, if we’re off the record here, I’ve got a ship in the middle of the woods that nobody has a damn clue about. Not ours, but y’know… a backup. Fits like three people, max… Not that we need it, just a precaution. Plus, it’s alien tech, who doesn’t want a sexy alien ship?” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “You didn’t tell your friend about this before he left, did you?” Locus drew a breath to continue, but Felix had already cut him off before he could finish his thought.  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “No, and I checked on the ship this morning. He didn’t take it. Like I said, it’s a last resort. I don't even know if the thing runs.”  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was now that Locus really hoped it did. Felix had taken him to the ship just a few days after, and it was then he memorized the coordinates. At the time, he had no idea why, aside from the fact that it was something his brain was trained to do. It held some sort of significance, even then; something he was unbelievably grateful for now.</p>
<p> Getting to the site undetected was easy enough. He had spent plenty of time wandering around as he pleased, the active camouflage enhancement allowing him to do so without being seen. It was something he had found himself doing as of late, before things got too messy. He crept through the quiet forest, attempting to make as little sound as possible. When Felix had dragged him to the site before, Locus didn’t remember it taking so long to get there, but the coordinates now displayed on his helmet couldn’t have been wrong, so he continued on. </p>
<p>That day had been strange, he could recall feeling at <em> ease </em> around Felix; something he didn’t register as odd until now. Maybe it had been the last time he truly felt that way. Their later conversations, even before the downfall of the mission, were always tense. Strictly business. But that day, months ago now, it was the closest thing to normal Locus had experienced in all their time on Chorus. </p>
<p>As he got closer and closer, Locus began to recognize his surroundings. Nothing more than small landmarks in his mind. It was harder now, but at the time, it looked like Felix had tracked in there often, something of a path beaten down leading to the ship. It wasn’t long before he could see it now, some of the grey metal visible through the trees. As he finally approached it, he recognized a large rock sat next to it, the one Felix had plopped down on, as if it belonged to him, like it was something he did regularly. That was when he noticed the cigarette butts scattered around the rock, and the path had made much more sense. </p>
<p>He froze, looking at the remains now, the remains of the cigarettes now worn and crushed, many of them hidden by what had grown back around the rock. Felix hadn’t been here in some time, and he understood why. The arrival of the reds and blues had put a stop to most of his free time, if that's what you could call it, that he had for himself,which was the biggest reason why he had decided to start sneaking away. With the memory of that day so fresh and raw in his mind, he felt himself losing sight of his own objective. He sat upon the rock, barely realizing he was doing so, peering up at the ship that sat before him. A memory flashed in his mind, an image of Felix doing the same thing, only he had removed his helmet, a cigarette dangling in his hand. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “Imagine just leaving.” The words had sounded thoughtful, his tone light, maybe hopeful in a way.  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “Leaving?” Locus repeated back, tilting his head in the slightest. He hadn’t quite caught the mood of the statement, at the time, and the question came out much more sceptical than he would have liked.  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “Oh come on, you know I’m not serious… Hypothetically. This is what this ship is for, getting the fuck out of here if the ants crawling around decide to turn on us… At least that’s what this was for, before those idiots showed up.”  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “Where would we go?” He cringed at the thought now, asking a question like that. Assuming that wherever they went, they would be together. That it was how things had to be. Because they needed each other… right?  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “I dunno… I haven't gotten that far yet. I’m trying to not plan for failure here.” Felix chuckled, turning his head to look at Locus, giving him a grin of sorts. It took Locus a second to realize that he returned it with a smile of his own.  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “And this is just a precaution?” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<em> Absolutely.”  </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Locus stood with a huff, squeezing his eyes shut, as if to force the memory away, pushing it to the back of his mind. Although bits and pieces of the conversation still floated around, specific statements, topics, how the words fell from his partner’s mouth. It all felt too comfortable, too pleasant and genuine. Just as it had then, the conversation brought him back years, years before Chorus, years before the <em> war.  </em></p>
<p>His feet didn’t want to move, but he forced himself to find the entrance of the ship, climbing inside. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “Beautiful, isn’t it?” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was as if he could still hear Felix’s words from that day. He almost <em> wished </em> Felix could’ve seen the ship light up as soon as he stepped inside; Locus could only figure it activated along with the other alien tech on Chorus. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<em> I suppose it is… Dark, don’t you think?” </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “Well, yeah, it’s like all the alien shit on this planet. If it’s nice enough now, can you imagine what it’ll look like all powered up.”  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “We can dream, but this is the last resort, right?” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “Well… yeah, but maybe we’ll come back and see it for shits and giggles.” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “Maybe…” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>In minutes, the ship had lifted off the ground, and Locus watched Chorus disappear behind him. He had imagined this in his head before everything had fallen apart; Felix at his side, making some comment to drastically underwhelm the whole experience, then some sort of scoff when Locus didn’t find the joke amusing. He had pictured the two of them carrying on with their lives, whether they continued to take on jobs, or each of them decided to settle down on their own terms. To think he was alone sent a chill down his spine, his stomach twisted in such a knot that it made it hard to breathe.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> What was the point? What was the next move?  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He had no idea where to go, what to do. Not the slightest start to a plan of any sort. Once he was well away from Chorus, he finally felt safe enough to lift the helmet from his head, pieces of his hair falling into his face as he did so. Something as simple as air touching his face had become foreign to him, just as it had in the war; it was not a feeling he particularly missed. It brought back memories, feelings he didn’t want to begin to think about. But his whole mind seemed to be filled with things he didn’t want to think about. Questions, memories, decisions, all prodding at him, suffocating him. Locus took in a breath, surprised when it caught in the back of his throat. He pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes, forcing a deep breath. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> What the hell just happened?  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The possibility of getting taken down as he tried to escape was long gone now, and unless they were sending someone after him, Locus was <em> safe </em> , he could <em> relax </em>. Which was when the entirety of everything seemed to settle in. He managed a breath, a great achievement for the time being. The lack of direction and purpose consumed him first, and with nowhere to go, it appeared that Locus was panicking. </p>
<p>It had all happened so fast, the shift of motivation and morality. The realization that what he believed he was, was not true to what he had become. Washington’s words, as much as he did not want to admit it, had taken their toll; especially now. Again and again he brushed him off, but everything he had said was true. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “You’re not a machine, you’re a murderer.”  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>As the words echoed in his mind, Locus felt a huff escape his body, one that resonated within him to create a deep ache in his chest. It burned, and continued to build and become worse with each breath he took. He tried again, but his mind was too cluttered. Attempting to surpass the wall of chaotic thoughts proved to be an obstacle he could not break through. Memories of Felix and all the things he had said, all the things Felix had done to convince him to come this far. All the manipulating, all the lies. Images of the war flashed through his mind alongside it, former teammates, squads, <em> partners. </em> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> Why did you do it in the first place? </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was hard to remember the initial motivation, especially in his state now. What made him agree to something on that scale? Money was never a true motivator, he did what he did because it was all he knew how to do. It was what he did <em> best. </em> It’s what Felix had told him he did best. <em> Felix </em> said it was his only option. That they were <em> broken. </em>They could not have normal lives no matter how hard they had tried. But Locus had never wanted a normal life… Right?</p>
<p>He found himself collapsing to his knees, his vision blurring throughout the panic that was now suffocating him. He closed his eyes, and found himself staring at the floor, his hands out in front of him to prevent him from falling forward. Once more he blinked, the world around him slowing to a near standstill. With a final huff, Locus barely felt his body slump to the ground before the world closed in around him. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Locus knew coming to terms with such things would not be an easy task. What he had not anticipated was how the stress was going to affect him. His first episode had come as quite the shock. He didn’t know what had caused him to lose consciousness, or if this would be a reoccurring thing. All he could do was hope that it wasn’t something serious, as the chance of him being able to seek medical attention would be slim to none if he wanted to stay hidden. </p>
<p>All that he could do now was wait. Wait for what? He couldn’t be sure. Wait for a sign, wait until he believed things calmed down, when they wouldn’t be looking for him any longer.  But that time seemed so far away. </p>
<p>Which gave plenty of time for thoughts to creep in once again. </p>
<p>The questions and memories, thoughts and decisions, they never hit quite like the first time they had overwhelmed him. Although it was stupid of him to think that it would be the last time that they would haunt him. They caused fits of their own, more so out of anger as the days went on. Days and days, hours and hours of thinking; <em> What could I have done to fix this mess? When did things actually fall apart?  </em></p>
<p>Then others prodded him, others he wished would leave him alone. Thoughts like; <em> Felix could be here. </em></p>
<p>That particular thought took on many forms. It was bitter, some days. Other days he felt relieved, like being rid of a leech; a leech that you knew was draining you day by day, but you couldn’t figure out the right way to let it go. Locus found the days of relief to be the most pleasant. It was rare, rare enough to where he could conclude the thoughts into a short list, as they had no more than a day to linger within his mind. The last few months on Chorus had been stressful, hellish. Feeling guilty about being rid of the <em> parasite </em> that his hell revolved around was something he couldn’t stand. <em> Missing him? </em> That drove him up the wall. He would pace and pace, wander around the small ship, nearly throwing fits of anger at the fact that he had <em> lost </em> his <em> partner </em> . That Felix could be there with him, if he had just gotten over himself for <em> five damn seconds </em> , they could’ve moved on and everything would be the same. They could be planning something else <em> right now. </em>Locus was ashamed of the moments he wished that could all come true.</p>
<p>Did he miss Felix, <em> or who Felix used to be? </em> He could dream that it all pointed to the fear of change and uncertainty; <em> If only it were that simple </em> . If only it was just the lingering <em> fear </em> of not knowing how he was going to carry on after all that had happened. It had to be layered with everything else that came with it. But <em> change </em> was too limited. Change was moving around your furniture, cutting your hair, wearing a different style of clothes. Change didn’t seem appropriate to describe this. It was his life, the way he had lived since <em> basic. </em> Felix’s voice in his ear ever since he was old enough to become <em> independent. </em> His mind tried the question of, <em> how could you miss someone like that? </em> But his answer was always, <em> how can you not? </em>Felix was always there, through it all. And just like that, he was gone.</p>
<p><em> He would’ve had a plan, </em> yet another idea Locus hated to remind himself of. Felix would have known what to do, and where to go. Or at least had a general idea that Locus could build from. Felix <em> knew </em> people, he was the people person, afterall. He would’ve pulled out some planet or some connection out of the back of his mind to get them out of this mess. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> But if he really was so smart, why didn’t he just do that on Chorus?  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And on again went the spiral of thoughts, questions rounding themselves in circles until Locus nearly drove himself mad. It was all too much, the isolation, on this tiny little ship. Absolutely no human contact for…. <em> six days? It had only been six days?  </em></p>
<p>He wondered what was going on in Chorus, how things had played out. He had left the planet believing that he would never see any of them ever again. He figured keeping ties with any of them was too risky, and he didn’t consider himself <em> redeemed </em>by the choices he had made by any means. Going against Felix didn’t ease any tension that lay between Locus and the group of sim troopers… Let alone the freelancers.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He wished things could have played out differently, though he also figured that anyone in his situation would wish the same. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He couldn’t keep his mind from wandering to the things Washington had said, everything that he did. He knew long before Wash was even aware of his presence that the agent had been part of a skilled group of freelancers, and was a fairly decent soldier himself. It wasn’t until Price had arrived that Locus learned more of what he had been through, everything he had done for the project. All the records and documents, the mind and drive of a <em> true soldier; </em>and all the while, Locus could not figure out why he had thrown all of that away for the group of idiots he risked everything to protect. </p>
<p>It felt like he should have understood now. That the clear answer should have popped up in his mind. It was logical to assume and know that this was an emotional gain. That Washington helped and protected these people because they did the same for him. Then he would question how this was different from his relationship with his <em> former </em> partner. <em> Felix and I looked out for each other, watched each other's backs… But how far would they have gone for each other?  </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>There had been a noise, a dull beep to snap him away from his thoughts. At first he had assumed it was the ship alerting him he was in need of fuel, or something of that effect. But when he investigated it further, he found it was a message. The countless number of people it could have been, a random passerby, the UNSC discovering him, Kimball, Grey, a group of his men who had managed to escape. It was likely that someone had found him, his silent wandering was about to come to an end. As Locus opened the message, he prepared himself for a fight. But his brows furrowed in confusion as he read the words before him, and he squinted to read the message again, over and over until he was sure of what he was reading. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> [I figured you might want some of these. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> -Agent Washington]  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>What followed the note was articles, news segments, everything he needed to know about what was going on back on Chorus, everything he needed to know about who was looking for him and what was being reported out. Useful information, there was no denying it, but Locus’ first thought was; <em> Why? </em>Another question to add to the list of them piling up in his mind. Another question to circle around until it drove him to insanity. </p>
<p>He couldn’t resist… no, Locus could not <em> handle </em> another question circulating in his mind, he could not afford to leave the message without a response. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>[<em> Why are you doing this?] </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>He sent the message, biting the inside of his cheek as he watched for a response. </p>
<p><em> This could be a trap, </em> but maybe he just hoped it was. Some excuse to do something other than just sit and wait and think of what to do instead of <em> having </em>to do something. On Chorus, Locus had a mission. Everyday he had a job, an objective, a task to complete. When he didn’t, he would consult with Felix and find something else to do. When things started to fall apart, the objective was to take down the reds and blues. When things took a turn, the objective was to make things right, and the first step to that was surviving long enough to do so. But Locus had no idea where to begin this process, he had no idea what to think, or believe or feel, all he knew now was that he… tasted blood. </p>
<p>His brows furrowing again, Locus pulled his face away from the screen, not realizing he had been just inches away from it. He had bit the side of his cheek hard enough to draw blood, a quiet huff coming from him once he had realized this. He closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath, counting to five as he did so, and the same when he slowly let the breath back out. He repeated the process, all the while keeping his eyes closed, right up until he was startled by another message. </p>
<p>Again, he was surprised, as this time, the message was from a different contact. Locus was hesitant, red flags going up in his mind; <em> he had been right, this was a trap. </em> He figured that the message to Washington must have been to reveal his location. This second one would just be a confirmation for what he had suspected all along. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>[<em> If you’re reading this, please send help. We are running out of supplies and are desperate.  </em></p>
<p><em> We fled our planet to avoid the impending war, but have lost all contact and have no way to return. We have families, children here. Anything can help. </em>]</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Locus tilted his head, staring at the message for a moment, a quiet sigh forcing itself from him. He couldn’t tell if he was relieved at the fact that he hadn’t been caught, or disappointed that something interesting wasn’t going to interrupt his mindless wandering. Either way, the new message would be something to do, something to keep him busy. That was, if this supposed group of refugees were still alive. The message seemed to be automatic, likely sent out to every ship that came within a certain distance from the planet. Distress signals like that were common, Locus knew because Felix could never seem to just <em> ignore </em> one. He alway <em> had </em> to investigate because… </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “Even if they’re dead, they might have left something good behind.” The words fell out of his mouth with a shrug, Felix now securing his helmet to his head.  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “And if they’re alive?” He had just about tested Locus’ patience to his limit. They were supposed to be looking for their target, not trouble.  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “Then I play the good guy card. I take what they’ve got, promising to come back with their supplies, and we leave. You don’t even have to get off the ship if you don’t want to, big guy.” Felix nodded at Locus, placing a hand on his shoulder. He could just feel the smug grin on his partner’s face, even through the helmet.  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “You have half an hour.” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “I won’t even need ten minutes, Lo. Trust me.”  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He recalled the little sidebar taking a total of two hours, as the planet had been full of criminals, who wanted to lure people in to do just what Felix had been planning; take their stuff and leave them for dead. Felix had gotten himself mixed up in the mess, and Locus had to come in to prevent his <em> partner </em> from getting killed. There had been many times like that, Felix’s compulsive need to take all that he could. Every opportunity, every gun, weapon, every dollar he could find, he needed it all. </p>
<p>Despite the hundreds of times he should have learned his lesson from this, Locus still found himself searching for the planet, and his curiosity only grew more when he found no information about the planet. Aside from coordinates, this planet was empty. No records of inhabitants or civilizations of any kind. But someone obviously had to be there, or used to be there. </p>
<p>With nothing better to do, he set his course for the unknown planet, and began to prepare himself for whatever was to come. As the ship approached the atmosphere, Locus’ attention was caught by another message displayed on the screen before him; a response from Washington. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>[<em> I’m helping you because you want to make things right, or so I heard. You can’t  </em></p>
<p>
  <em> do it on your own, I know from experience. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> If you’re going to do this, do it right. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> -Agent Washington] </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. New Beginnings</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A group of pirates come across a familiar face when attempting to flee Chorus, hoping that this could be what they need to finally Mae their great escape. </p>
<p>Locus offers to help the colony of refugees struggling to survive, hoping to find purpose in his fresh start. Though the more he learns about their past, the more he wonders if his guilt will get the best of him in the end.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>One week before...</em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Holy shit…” </span>
  </em>
  <span>The words escaped Mitch’s mouth as he peered into the clearing he had just stumbled upon. “Guys, look what I just found.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He gestured towards the body, motionless, distorted, sat in the middle of the clearing, looking back to the other three people in his squad. One turned, Sophia, joining Mitch at his side, her pistol now pointed at what he assumed to be a corpse. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What… or who is it?” She mumbled the words, inching closer in a small attempt to get a better look. Immediately, Mitch put out an arm, holding her back from venturing any further. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Not a clue… They look dead but… can’t be too careful.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“There’s no way to tell from here, I can’t get a proper reading on the guy without my helmet, and… I doubt that armor is in working shape to </span>
  <em>
    <span>generate</span>
  </em>
  <span> info anyway.” She huffed, returning her gun to her hip. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“And I’m not letting you walk straight into a trap. Dead or alive, you don’t know what the hell is waiting out there. Mines? Someone else hiding in the bushes over there?” He raised his brows, tilting his head, forgetting for a moment that she couldn’t see the disapproving look he shot at her, despite him being able to see her furious eyes staring back at him. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Miller.” He barked out the name, nodding back to another one of the soldiers in their group. “Check the perimeter of the clearing. I am not taking any chances.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Not like he could afford to if he wanted to make it off this planet alive.</span>
  </em>
  <span> As the days carried on, it only got more and more dangerous for the group as the war teetered on the edge of turning round. At this point, there only seemed to be three options left; dying at the hands of Chorus citizens, dying in the woods, or finally finding some way off this hell of a planet. The latter had been the goal the group of four had been trying to achieve, but their endless wandering in the woods had gotten them nowhere… besides getting them </span>
  <em>
    <span>lost. </span>
  </em>
  <span>There had been no signs, no calls, no contact from their former </span>
  <em>
    <span>bosses,</span>
  </em>
  <span> but Mitch knew it was dawning close to the end, and he really didn’t want to be around for the end. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He waited for the signal to go forward, nodding towards Sophia before taking his first step out of the wilderness that had concealed them for the past two days. He slowly walked over to the body, stopping when his foot brushed against the helmet that lay just a foot from it. Streaked in blood, the visor cracked and shattered, Mitch retrieved it from the ground, brushing away some of the mud off the side. The helmet was grey, but aside from the sticky crimson blood streaked across the top, he couldn’t tell much else. It was damaged pretty badly, beyond the point of function. One side appeared to be worse than the other, crushed and crumpled from impact. He turned it over in his hands, his brows raising when he saw how much blood had managed to get inside the helmet as well. It was coated, still wet. Mitch shook his head, letting the helmet topple back to the ground. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He brought his attention back to the body, which was just as lifeless as it had been when he first spotted it. Up close he could see how distorted and crushed it appeared and he couldn’t help but hope whoever it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>wasn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> alive. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m pretty sure he’s-“ A groan cut his words short, causing him to jump back with a small yelp. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Doesn’t sound dead.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He took in a breath, watching the person writhe around, only to gasp, choke, and let out a strangled yell through gritted teeth. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s alive?” Sophia mumbled the words in disbelief as she pushed past Mitch, her panicked and urgent tone causing a growl to rise in the back of his throat. He scoffed, giving a bitter laugh as the other two members of his group joined her around the body. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“And what do you think you’re gonna do for ‘em?” He watched her crouch next to the body, flinching when another cry came as a response to her trying to touch it. “Do you see him? How much blood he’s lost. We don’t have time for a charity case, Soph.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s not one of them.” She shot the words back, brushing her hair out of her face. “He’s not a civilian or a soldier, I don’t recognize this armor as any of theirs. He’s one of </span>
  <em>
    <span>us.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>As if that mattered at this point. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Mitch rolled his eyes, turning to take a few steps away from the small huddle that had formed around the body. If the fact that he was on their side truly mattered, she wouldn’t have agreed to the plan that they had made, the plan for just the </span>
  <em>
    <span>two of them. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Of course he couldn’t say that without alerting the other two tagging along, alerting them of the fact that they were there for the sake of a bargaining tool. Mitch knew one way or another, they were going to come across someone who wanted them dead, and when that time came, Mitch would be ready with two soldiers to hand over while he and Sophia made their escape. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s a little more important than that…” The words came from behind, one of the other members of the squad shook his head, looking up from the bloodied helmet he had picked up from the ground after Mitch.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Miller, what the hell are you talking about?” Mitch turned, furrowing his brows at the look of shock that sat on his teammates face. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Felix.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>The words came as a shock, Mitch snapping his head to the slide the second they registered in his mind. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Felix,</span>
  </em>
  <span> their </span>
  <em>
    <span>boss. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s… It’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>what? </span>
  </em>
  <span>What do you mean?</span>
  <em>
    <span>” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Mitch hissed, stomping over to rip the helmet out of the grasp of his teammate. He brushed away more of the dirt and blood until he saw it too; the orange stripe. In an instant, he had turned back to the body, crouching down next to Sophia to get a closer look at the rest of the armor. It was covered in it’s own layer of dirt and grime, but Mitch didn’t hesitate to reach a hand out and brush it away, ignoring the scream from the person below him. It matched, he was able to see the accents of orange before he was pushed away by Sophia, who didn’t seem too pleased with how rough he had been with her </span>
  <em>
    <span>patient.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He looked along the rest of the beaten armor, not surprised when it matched the colors of the helmet, and matched the colors of the armor he had seen walk in front of him just a week before. After looking a bit more at the floor of the forest, he could see that Felix had managed to move himself from the edge of the clearing to the center, blood smeared along a path of disheveled dirt and leaves.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Holy shit…” Mitch stared at his </span>
  <em>
    <span>boss, </span>
  </em>
  <span>a man he was scared shitless of just a day before, who was his only ticket at getting off this planet, a task that was impossible without him. Somehow, he had messed this whole thing up, he was sure of it. The cocky </span>
  <em>
    <span>son of a bitch</span>
  </em>
  <span> had screwed this whole plan up. Now, not only was he losing a paycheck, he was losing his </span>
  <em>
    <span>life.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He fought the anger, the rage building up inside him, resisting the urge to reach for his gun and kill the man himself. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s… If they took down Locus and Felix, we don’t have a chance.” Sophia leaned away from him, her words filled with helplessness. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mitch opened his mouth, about to offer something of reassurance when an idea hit him. He couldn’t hold back the smirk creeping onto his lips, the idea forming until laughter took over. He ignored the glares and looks of confusion from his teammates around him as he slowly returned to his feet. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“This son of a bitch is our ticket out of here. Can you fix him up?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“</span>
  </em>
  <span>I… Yeah, yeah, I can try…” She furrowed her brows, her eyes shifting between Felix and Mitch, obviously confused at his change of heart.  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Someone’s gonna want him a hell of a lot more than they want us.” Mitch pulled the helmet off of his head, making his way back to the wounded mess of blood and armor that lay before him. He crouched, waiting for the man’s eyes to open, inspecting the distant pupils surrounded by what was once the whites of his eyes, now glossed over in a deep red. Mitch had only seen his face once, hardened, sly. He had always looked so pleased with himself, but there was none of that to be found now. The absence of his arrogance made him completely unrecognizable alongside all the blood, dirt and wounds smeared along it as well. The man who stared back at him was terrified, choking on his own blood, the pain he was suffering being too much to bear. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <span> “...He’s just gotta live long enough for us to get the attention of </span>
  <em>
    <span>Kimball.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Mitch let the words roll off his tongue in a hiss, grinning when he caught a glimpse of anger spike within the eyes of his former boss. He took a breath, stepping away once again, leaving his crew to struggle to keep this man alive. </span>
</p>
<p>. . . </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It was just fucking weird, dude.” Tucker shrugged and leaned back against the building they stood outside of, folding his arms across his chest as he did. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That doesn’t answer my question.” Wash forced a chuckle, letting his eyes wander up to the sky. How long had it been since he could relax? Even now it felt like something was bound to happen. “Someone doesn’t just flip like that, Tucker.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, I’m telling you, he did. And it was weird… We were beating the shit out of Felix, then he comes along and I’m thinking, “Shit, we’re in for it now.”, but he just kinda stands there.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“And we’re talking about the same person here? Locus? The one who tried to kill me less than an hour before this?” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yes, Locus. Big bad motherfucking Locus. He walked in, and when his <em> attack dog </em> begged him for help, he said-” Tucker cleared his throat, preparing for the worst impression of Locus anyone could have ever performed, “ “No more killing. Blah, blah, blah. I’m gonna make things right” And then the dude just leaves. That’s it.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Wash couldn’t help but laugh, and it felt good to laugh. There hadn't been too much to laugh about for a while now. Even still, with the context of the conversation, the thoughts about all of this whirling in his head, he did feel bad for laughing. At first it made him uneasy, he assumed Locus was using this as some sort of plot or plan. That he would come back and <em> complete his mission. </em> But after a day or so of this worry being on his mind, he remembered his mindset, his plans and goals when he had first met the reds and blues, and how quickly his own priorities shifted. He had once been in a very similar spot. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Alright, I believe you, but I’m not sure I… believe it… I guess.” Wash’s tone had started off lighthearted, but soon fell. It was hard to push away the idea that Locus was being genuine. It was hard to grasp it and hold onto it without some sort of confirmation.  If he had been there, maybe he could’ve read him, heard something in his voice that would’ve confirmed that this was a scheme or a lie, that he wasn’t done destroying the lives of innocent people because it was an <em> order.  </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah, I don’t know what to make of it… But he’s out of our hair, right? Good riddance, if you ask me. If I ever hear anything about either of them, it’ll be too soon.” Tucker lifted his arms, moving his hands behind his head to rest against the wall behind him. He let out a sigh, one that seemed to indicate that he was satisfied with all this, that this was a happy ending to him; something Wash wished he could do himself. </p>
<p>He couldn’t help but feel bad. There was so much left hanging in the air, so much he wished he could poke and prod at to get answers, but doing so only made all of this so <em> real. </em>Caboose and Tucker had just lost their friend, and while everyone else was celebrating, he couldn’t help but notice the two of them struggle. Digging deeper into this, especially through the two of them, would make things worse. The only other person he could think of that would care would be Carolina, but the loss of Epsilon had taken its toll on her as well. And her version of a distraction seemed to be helping Kimball decide what to do next, something he was only able to pry her away from for ten minutes. Wash tried to check in with her and urged her to try and have a good time, but the only thing he had gotten out of her in the brief conversation they had earlier that day was, “You have your fun, and I’ll have mine.”, which she delivered with a sort of smile that Wash had never seen on her face before. It was light, carefree, she was obviously having fun, and he wasn’t about to ruin her good mood with something like this. </p>
<p>Losing Epsilon was strange in itself for him as well, but he didn’t feel like he really deserved to feel the way he did. But the more he thought about how he didn’t deserve an input or feeling of loss, the more memories returned, the ones ingrained into his mind from the day <em> they </em> had first tried to give him Epsilon all those years ago. They returned in his dreams, which they had done on and off since he had become comfortable with the reds and blues, but the past three nights he had woken in a cold sweat, almost certain that he had been screaming <em> her </em>name. Luckily he found himself alone each time he did, and usually he would just get up and wander back to watch over everyone having a good time until he felt alright to head back to bed. But this last time, the one that had woken him up just an hour before, shook him pretty bad. That’s when he actually approached Tucker, pulling him from the crowd of people still celebrating the end of the war. Thank god he hadn’t been in the temple at that moment, or else Wash likely wouldn’t have been able to pry him away. </p>
<p>He hid how it had bothered him well, managing to stop the shaking by the time he had found Tucker, and hoped that his eyes showed no indication he had been crying. Then they talked, their conversation eventually wandering to the mercenaries, then Locus, and now, silence. Wash getting pulled back into his thoughts, getting pulled back into the remnants of the nightmares. </p>
<p>“Wash, are you good?” Tucker leaned forward, his brows furrowed as he looked at him. His voice startled him, ripping him from his thoughts fast enough to bring a small strike of pain along with it. He had gotten so lost in his mind that he hadn’t been aware of the expression on his face, and based on the look he was receiving now, it couldn’t have been very good. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” Wash cleared his throat, bringing a hand up to rub his face in some sort of attempt to wipe away the tension. “I’m just thinking.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“...And that’s the last thing everyone else is doing right now. Loosen up, c’mon.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You say that like it’s easy.” The words came out in a grumble and Wash caught Tucker just as he rolled his eyes. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It’s not. Everyone else is distracting themselves until shit settles down and you’re… moping? Still on edge? Trying to stick to a schedule and trying to sleep and <em> failing? </em> ” Tucker scoffed before continuing. “I don’t know what you’re doing, but you need to let go for a second. Even <em> Carolina </em> is letting her guard down.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“But she’s-” The words had barely left his mouth before Tucker cut him off. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“She’s in a room. With Kimball. It’s locked and the two of them have barely left for <em> two days, </em> Wash. It’s a little more than <em> planning </em>, if you ask me.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>A look of confusion, then realization took over Wash’s face, and when Tucker’s immediate response was a laugh, he could feel the redness rise into his cheeks. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Come back with me, all the guys are there and we’re just fucking around. But not like… Fucking around while we’re forced into dealing with the freelancers old drama. For once, it’s actually fine to not give a shit.” Tucker stepped away from the wall, nodding his head back to the entrance of the building. </p>
<p>He weighed his options, only to realize he didn’t really have any at this point. With a glare, Wash huffed and started to head back alongside him. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>. . . </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Locus landed his ship a mile away from the communication tower the message had been sent from. He had discovered a clearing on the edge of a forest, which was the closest place he could find where he could conceal the ship. From overhead, Locus had been able to identify a small town composed of shacks and buildings made from scraps. He hadn’t noticed any people, though he figured it may have been too far away to tell. </p>
<p>The rest of the tiny planet was covered in forest, thousands of trees that reminded him of the pine trees on Earth. Someone who didn’t have the technology that he did would have definitely gotten lost within the forest. It was suffocating, dark, and eerily silent. Locus could only imagine the things that lurked within the endless shadows. He decided it was time to attempt to make it through, the compactness making it impossible for branches not to scrape against his armor as he pushed through the first few layers of trees. It would be perfect if someone were in need of concealing themselves, though with his enhancements, it wasn’t a top priority. </p>
<p>Since he could remember, small spaces had bothered him. It was something he tried to hide, and had to for his job. Even still, he couldn’t fight back the panic rising inside of him, and never had been able to do so; only mask what would be seen from anyone on the outside. Still, he pressed on, watching the compass displayed on his helmet, watching the coordinates as he moved closer and closer to the edge of the forest. </p>
<p>It was minutes of uninterrupted silence until he was met with any sign of life. The heat sensors detected something, or someone, lurking behind him, an orange dot lighting up on his HUD. Locus turned to face the being, watching, waiting, surveying the area, but was met with nothing but tree branches, the spot nowhere to be found. Locus couldn’t imagine his sensors had been wrong, though he still turned back around and retrieved his pistol from his side, keeping a tight hold on it as he ventured further on. </p>
<p> </p>
<p><em> Calm down, you’re letting this get to your head. </em>He took a deep breath following the thought, unaware that his breathing had become more rapid, his heart teetering on the edge of racing. He moved faster now, pushing through the branches, the next minute or so passing with no disturbances. But just as he was about to let his guard down and dismiss the interaction as no more than a technical difficulty, he spotted another mark, reacting faster this time. He turned, his gun ready, pointing at the unidentified being, but was met with nothing once again. Locus remained silent, even holding his breath as he listened for any noise, watched for the slightest movement. He gave it a minute, and turned again, not surprised when he heard a footstep behind him immediately after. Once more, he spun around, activating his camouflage as he did.The person, or thing, must have had their own sort of camouflage, one that appeared to be malfunctioning, but at least couldn’t see him now either. He stood his ground, ready do do so as long as he needed to before-</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I know you’re there.” The voice was small, shaky. Definitely belonged to a woman, though Locus suspected she couldn’t have been very old. Maybe twenty, if that. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He set his jaw, taking a deep breath. He wasn’t about to give himself away, especially with how intently this person had been following him. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Are you a soldier, who are you with?” She spoke again and Locus could hear her take a step closer to him. He raised a brow, and reciprocated by taking a step back. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m with no one. I’m alone.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Are you from Chorus?” The woman seemed to shuffle forwards once more, but this time as she did, her cloaking device turned off, revealing the suit she was wearing underneath. It reminded Locus of the undersuit he wore beneath his own armor, but all she wore over it were silver gauntlets and a set of boots to match. She wore a helmet of the same silver material, though her dark curly ponytail poked out behind it, and her face was visible through the visor. She held a gun, a shotgun, pointed directly at Locus’ face. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>And once more, he took a step back. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You could say that…” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What the <em> hell </em>is that supposed to mean?” Again, she pressed forward, waving the shotgun around aimlessly. Luckily, it happened to be pointed away from Locus’ face now. Her tone was sharp, direct, her eyes narrowing in his general direction. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Calm down.” He spat the words out with an uncomfortable amount of familiarity. <em> As if he was talking to Felix; </em>A shorter, less intimidating Felix with freckles scattered all over her face. “I’m coming from Chorus, I do not have any affiliation with their government, or anyone outside of there. I am completely and entirely alone.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Locus watched her lower her weapon, wrinkling her nose at his response. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Alright, who are you?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m not going to stand here and be interrogated. Are you a member of the civilization in need of supplies and assistance?” Locus finally revealed himself, returning his weapon to his side.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“... Yes.” She was startled, almost stumbling back as she had to look up to see his helmet, but concealed it well. He watched the expression on her face shift, her brows furrowed as she stared him down, trying to recover from the bit of shock she had shown. It was almost enough to make him grin. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“And I am here to help.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“...Then come on.” She squinted, gesturing for him to move forward with the rifle in her hands. </p>
<p>He merely nodded, starting to make his way back through the dense forest, coming to an opening in several minutes. The town Locus had seen overhead was now twenty feet away from him, a few people wandering about the makeshift buildings. The woman led him to the entrance, his armor already drawing stares from the people lingering around the town. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“How long have you all been here?” He couldn’t imagine building any of this had been easy, even if it was nothing more than scraps and wood from the surrounding forest. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“We fled shortly after the war started… We were ones who tried to keep peace, but when one of our leaders was killed, we realized we were outnumbered.” </p>
<p>The leader who Locus could recall killing as clear as day. It was early on, one of the first few weeks Locus had started the job on Chorus. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “She’s coming your way, Locus.” Felix’s voice buzzed in his ear and he adjusted  his rifle to the path the group was walking down. Their leader, Artemis, was talking with some of the higher-ups from the new republic, her husband and daughter walking at her side. He could recall a content and gentle grin on her face. The group had been making progress with their talks.  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “The target is in my sights.” He waited for the order, taking a breath before he pulled the trigger, her body toppling lifeless to the ground. He watched as the people around her scattered like ants, the father’s conflicted stance as he first kneeled before his wife, then hurried to scoop up his daughter and flee. At the time, it was sending a message, nothing more.  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>  “It’s done.”  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He knew something was familiar about the woman who had snuck up on him in the forest, it only just now clicked that she was Artemis’ daughter. He fought the fresh wave of guilt, swallowing the lump in the back of his throat as she brought him through the town. She explained further how they had arrived on the planet, and the story of the downfall on Chorus, which he listened to despite the fact that he knew it like the back of his hand. He knew about certain events, remembered watching over the whole thing, poking and prodding from behind the scenes before he and Felix were sent in to intervene. When she had mentioned their ship nearly not escaping Chorus, Locus could remember again that he had been one of the ones trying to take it down. </p>
<p>He was glad his helmet obscured his face, he knew that his somber expressions were ridden with far too much guilt. Everytime she brought up an event that had been his fault, he found it harder to carry on, harder to imagine these people trusting him. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Why were you on Chorus?” She asked the question as the two ventured into one of the better structured buildings. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I was… hired to assist the Federal Army.” He bit the side of his cheek, pausing to take a deep breath. The lie was inevitable; he wanted to help these people, and knew they wouldn’t trust him if they knew the truth. And Locus couldn’t blame them one bit. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I thought you said you weren’t affiliated with them?” He could hear a hint of suspicion in her tone, which made him despise all of this lying and diverting even more. She had every right to be suspicious, and beyond that, this woman had every right to kill him right now. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I no longer have ties with them. I left. There is no reason for my presence now that the war is over. The two sides are coming to an agreement as we speak, and I’m sure the UNSC is involved now.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It’s over?” She stopped dead in her tracks, spinning around to face Locus again. “How long has it been over?” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Just a few days now… Almost a week… If you would like to look into going back I can help you get there-” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Go back?... The UNSC is involved?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I believe so… I didn’t stay long enough to know for sure.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That’s something to discuss with someone who has more authority around here… I’m just in charge of hunting and protecting and such.” It was obvious by her expression that she had no interest in returning, and he could understand why. Shortly after the death of her mother, the people of Chorus were restless, as it had been mistaken as an assasination attempt from the Feds to kill another leader of the Republic. After that, nobody would listen to reason, just as things were <em> supposed </em>to go. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That’s an important job for someone so young, no?” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“For someone so <em> young </em>, I do a damn good job, thank you.” She raised a brow, folding her arms across her chest. There was a good amount of playfulness in her tone, as well as her expression, but Locus watched it drip away as she started to reveal the true reason why she was given such a responsibility. “... the only other people capable died in the ships taken down when we left, or got lost in the woods shortly after we arrived. Nobody else wanted the job.”  </p>
<p>She shrugged, her dismissal coming to a bit of a shock to Locus. He found a huff coming from him as she turned and continued like it was nothing. All the while Locus could feel every comment, every statement unraveling the layers and layers of pain and suffering his actions had left behind. He had no other option but to follow, his feet seeming to drag a bit more than they had before. </p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Deceitful Death</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>What does it mean to be alive when you can't remember who you are?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em><span>Panic.</span></em> <em><span>Pure, unrelenting panic</span></em><span>. He had screamed, out of anger or fear, he had never been able to recall such a mixture boiling in his mind. The heat rose to his face, but he could feel his stomach sink to his feet. </span><em><span>Or maybe that last bit was just a part of falling. </span></em><span>No, no, he was terrified, alright. He was terrified of the wind rushing past him,  he was terrified of the ground coming closer and closer beneath him, terrified of what lay below the clouds he was forcefully passing through at what felt like million miles an hour. He couldn’t breathe, his shout cut off as the air left his body. He couldn’t think of anything but what it would look like, </span><em><span>what would his body look like when it crashed into the ground?,</span></em><span> what it would feel like, </span><em><span>would he live? Would it hurt to die? Oh how helpless he was. </span></em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>If only he had listened… he was never a good listener, and was well aware of that fact now. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He could talk. His words could get him out of everything. If only he had more time. He could have done it.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Felix felt the ground coming closer, felt his heartbeat getting louder, faster as he did, it was all he could hear. </span>
  <em>
    <span>This couldn’t be it. It couldn’t be the end. </span>
  </em>
  <span>There was no chance, not after something like this. There was too much left behind. Those </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking </span>
  </em>
  <span>sim troopers, there was no way they were getting out of all of this so easily. It didn’t matter how far he was falling, how hard he was hitting the ground, he would survive. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He was going to make them pay.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In an instant, the air whirling around him ceased, the lights stopped, the feeling of floating nowhere to be found. The last bit of air left his lungs, heart stopping as he came crashing to the ground with an unsettling </span>
  <em>
    <span>crack.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>. . . </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He soon discovered that dying would have been the better alternative. There was no gap, no break before the pain as he woke. His eyes snapped open, a breath catching in the back of his throat that had been intended for a scream. It felt like fire, his whole body heating up with the sudden intake of air. He choked on the thick pool of blood collecting in the back of his throat and coughed, spitting it at his shattered visor in front of him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was impossible to think, to focus beyond the pain. He wondered where he was, how he had gotten there, </span>
  <em>
    <span>who he was,</span>
  </em>
  <span> but the questions lasted a matter of seconds before they disappeared, lost in the perpetual </span>
  <em>
    <span>burning</span>
  </em>
  <span> sensation. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Make some progress, dipshit.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The thought protruded, loud, violent. He spat more blood, realizing that it wasn’t stopping any time soon. He was going to </span>
  <em>
    <span>die</span>
  </em>
  <span>, choking on his own blood. The thought alone gave him a rush of adrenaline, fueled by nothing but raw unrelenting fear, and he brought an arm up to pry the helmet from his head. He tried to make the action fast, to get it over with. Though it was far too much to handle, and the world went black once more. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He guessed it was only for a few moments this time, as he woke in the same state, </span>
  <em>
    <span>choking.</span>
  </em>
  <span> His head throbbed, body aching with every beat of his heart. If this was living, he didn’t want it anymore. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Let me die. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Not without finishing what we started. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Again, that voice carried past the others. He didn’t want to listen to it, he didn’t want to try and fight anymore. He wanted the pain to end. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He wanted to die. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Which was much easier said than done. He tried to let go, but something inside him, that voice willed him to go on. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Move, you worthless pile of fucking flesh. Move. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It made him struggle, and continue, which just frustrated him further. It was anger this time, anger that urged the need to move. Anger that forced him to use all the strength he could manage to roll over. In doing so, an immense amount of pressure was relieved from the back of his head, a relief he knew was far too good to last. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It felt as if he had ripped away the back of his skull, resulting in a gut wrenching scream forcing itself from him; one that bled with desperation, one he had no way of controlling. It died in a hiss, stars dancing across his vision until the world was nothing but static around him. He waited for things to settle, letting his vision of his surroundings return to him, just to be sure that it would. It was his last bit of confirmation to be sure that this was real, that he wasn’t dying, and there was nothing he could do to bring that any closer to him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  
  <em>
    <span>Not by just lying there.</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>So he did the only thing he could do, he tried to crawl, dragging himself across the rough forest floor, his cries breaking the complete and utter silence surrounding him. He carried himself as far as he could manage, to the point where the stars returned, and when he rested the side of his head against the ground, he could see the darkness in the corners of his eyes. Felix couldn’t help a smile as the world closed in around him once again. Finally, he could rest.  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Good enough, asshole. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>. . . </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He awoke to the sound of voices, or what he assumed to be so. All he could make out were muffled words and noises, nothing made any sense. He let out a groan as the pain slowly returned, and tried to ignore it as best he could. It was a matter of seconds before it returned in full swing, causing him to gasp and inevitably choke on the blood pooled in his mouth. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>More voices surrounded him, then what he assumed to be a hand touching his shoulder. The second it made contact, the burning sensation returned, and he was unable to bite back a scream. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Felix lost track of the voices quickly. As if he was capable of remembering much in his state </span>
  <em>
    <span>anyways.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He hoped they would leave, leave him to rest and die.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Stop fucking thinking like</span>
  </em>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Another hand touched his shoulder, but this time, the person on the other end hadn’t been so </span>
  <em>
    <span>gentle.</span>
  </em>
  <span> They pressed down, their hand pulling downwards, sending a wave of pain across his back. The yell was inevitable, expected at this point, and his eyes shot open, a blurry figure moving closer to his face. More words, more movement. He had almost closed his eyes again when someone approached him, leaning in close enough so Felix had a view of their eyes, green, sharp and cold. The closer they got, the more their voice and their words hurt his ears. Felix wanted nothing more than to strangle them, to jump up, wrap his hands around their neck, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>choke them.</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>You’ll get there. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He could do nothing more than watch the stranger stroll away, the green eyes being replaced with blue. Ones that were much more calm and gentle, warm in a way. Felix couldn’t help but recognize that they held a bit of familiarity. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They had decided to move him, the action causing too much pain for him to bear more than a few seconds of it. As he found himself losing consciousness once more, he tried to fill his mind with the memories of those eyes. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>. . . </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Consciousness came in nothing more than flashes, just as it had before. Flashes of voices, of figures. One night it had been a fire, the warmth against his face bringing some sort of comfort, which he forgot existed up until then. The most common thing he saw was the face of a woman, the one the blue eyes belonged to.  Deep blue eyes paired with a soft, but stern face of a woman. He had tried to speak to her, but his words died the second he tried to form them in the back of his throat, and all he managed to get out was a quiet groan. When she replied, he could only watch her mouth move, the words not registering past the even tone they were spoken in. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Even in his dreams, he saw her eyes. Though he knew they belonged to someone else, someone very far away. He dreamt of a young woman, her hair a light brown, nothing like the blonde woman caring for him now. She couldn’t have been very tall, but from the perspective of him in these dreams and memories, he had to look up to see her. It was ironic, seeing as he felt he looked up to her in many other ways as well. He was very fond of her, he knew that much. She guided him through everything, taught him right from wrong. Took care of him as if he was a child… He assumed that in these memories he must have been a child. Who could she have been? His mother? She was far too young to be his mother… He couldn’t remember if he had siblings… </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> Most of the dreams consisted of a warm summer day, the smell of flowers and earth surrounding the two of them as they walked through the grass. He tried to visit that space often between the moments of his broken consciousness; the idea of being a child, it was much better to think about than all the pain. So it’s where he stayed; until it all came crashing down. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>It was a stormy night, cold, wet, the rain pouring down. He could hardly see through it all. Isaac looked back, only to be met with a hand that forced him to turn back around. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Keep moving.”  </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>So he did. It was all he could do. Olivia knew best, after all. He had feared he had lost the two of them; it couldn’t have been easy carrying someone else through the forest, he was having a hard enough time by himself dodging the large roots beneath his feet. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>This had been the plan she had been preparing them for, but now that it was actually happening, Isaac was terrified. It was supposed to be easier than this, they weren’t supposed to be chasing them. It was supposed to be silent, quick and easy. He stifled a sob as he continued to run through the forest. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>A scream rang through the sound of the rain and their panicked breaths. A scream he knew all too well, a scream that would back him into a corner most nights. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Liv-” He started, again, trying to stop, but he was cut off with his sister’s own sharp yell back.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Just keep going, Isaac.”  </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The two ran, he couldn’t remember for how long, he couldn’t remember why, but they still continued on through the pouring rain, the thunder rolling behind them. He looked up to the sky through the branches, a bolt of lightning spiking just a few feet in front of them. Startled, he found himself tripping over the stump of a tree. Olivia followed behind him, dropping the toddler she was carrying in her arms. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The thunder rolled as Isaac looked behind them. The lightning came down again, illuminating the area long enough for him to see a figure coming closer, and closer. Next to him, the child cried, Olivia trying to scoop him back up. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Get up, get up now!” She cried out, lifting Isaac by the back of his shirt. He was frozen, stuck in shock, his eyes wide. He couldn’t tear his gaze from the figure, the one he feared so much. “You need to leave, please.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I can’t, I can’t.” A whine followed the words, tears streaming down his cheeks, mixing with the pouring rain. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“You have to, it’s okay.” She pushed him forward as the figure came into sight. It screamed, but Isaac couldn’t hear over the thunder raging above. He turned, fighting the urge to stay, and he bolted, continuing on through the trees, echoes of the screams continuing on behind him. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>. . . </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Felix couldn’t remember when the realization finally hit; he was a prisoner, and these idiots planned to turn him in to get away. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He figured it must have been around the time any sort of conscious thought had returned, though it was bold of him to even think that much of the state of his mind; everything was hazy, at best. Memories of the fall returned, but he couldn’t quite grasp the events that had led him to it. Why was he here? Who was he with? Really, he couldn’t remember much of anything. His name, could he even remember that? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Isaac</span>
  </em>
  <span>? No, that felt strange. He was sure it was right, but it was hard to think about why it turned his mind so sour, why it left a bitter taste in his mouth. It couldn’t have been wrong, it’s what that girl had shouted at him, and that seemed to be the only memory he had to go off of. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His interactions with the soldiers dragging him along had been limited. He saw plenty of the woman, later finding that her name was Sophia. It took a few days for him to be able to really </span>
  <em>
    <span>hear</span>
  </em>
  <span> what they were saying, but once he could understand them, they revealed a good amount of information on their own. Now all he had to do was make sense of any of it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This Kimball woman they spoke of seemed important. For some reason, she held the power it took to get them off the planet they were stranded on. He wasn’t too excited about meeting her, or finding out why he was such an important bargaining tool, but aside from listening, he was helpless. Trying to talk caused a great deal of pain, the same for trying to move at all, and he still couldn’t keep himself from blacking out any time the soldiers tried to move him themselves. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>From what he could gather, Sophia was the smartest out of the group. She talked to herself, well, tried to talk to him. He remembered bits and pieces from her rambling, about her repairing a helmet, his helmet. And how she planned on using it to contact Kimball for her </span>
  <em>
    <span>own</span>
  </em>
  <span> gain. She spoke of her own plan, one that excluded her supposed teammates from making it off of the planet alive. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“But it’s our little secret.” She had laughed as she said the words, her deceiving grin catching his eye. If only she </span>
  <em>
    <span>hadn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> been trying to sell him out, </span>
  <em>
    <span>she could have been a good ally. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Well, until we decided to kill her. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Was that something he did often? Killing? He hadn’t really questioned it before, as it was just his nature, it was an instinct for him, even if he barely knew what was going on. He was always on alert for how he could get out of everything, how he could fight and kill these people in a matter of minutes. If he had been in better health, he was sure that they would all be long gone by now and he would be getting his… </span>
  <em>
    <span>revenge? </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>That’s right.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Revenge for what? It was right within his grasp, the reason he had been fighting to stay alive, what he had sworn to do if he lived. It lay at the edge of his mind, just out of reach, his head aching whenever he tried to remember what it was. It was significant, painfully significant to his life and whatever had gotten him into this mess. If he could just figure out </span>
  <em>
    <span>who </span>
  </em>
  <span>and </span>
  <em>
    <span>why</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he knew all his answers would come soon enough. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was late one night, the group left Felix in a small cave they were using for shelter, and went out to the edge of it to start a fire. At this point, they were literally begging for someone to find them. They had no idea where they were going, and wandering for a week left their supplies limited. The group was desperate, hungry, and sick of each other. And now, they were debating whether or not their </span>
  <em>
    <span>prisoner</span>
  </em>
  <span> was worth keeping alive.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m tired of dragging his ass here and there. He’s useless to us.” The leader, he could never remember his name, but he knew him as the </span>
  <em>
    <span>prick</span>
  </em>
  <span> that had gotten in his face and practically spit on him. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Say that all you want, but once Kimball finds out he’s alive, we won't even exist to her.” Sophia, he could hear the aggression rising in her voice. If they killed him, her plan was as good as gone. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t see how we’re going to get ahold of Kimball at this rate. We have nothing, Soph. There ain’t a working helmet between the four of us, and even if I wanted to send something out over a random channel, I can’t. Something’s wrong with my helmet, it’s fried and we’re screwed.” He wondered how long it was going to take him to notice the parts Sophia had been switching in the helmets. Now he was placing bets on how long it took him to figure out it was her. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“We’ll find her, we’ll find someone.” Another member of the group spoke up. “Maybe if we stop trying to babysit Felix and treat him like the scum he is, he’ll start remembering some stuff.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Felix. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Something clicked, that was him, that was his name. Not only his name, but that was who he </span>
  <em>
    <span>was. </span>
  </em>
  <span>His eyes snapped open, his mind spinning with hazy memories. He was Felix, well, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>Isaac. He was Isaac until… something happened, he didn’t use that name anymore. Like many things, trying to think about </span>
  <em>
    <span>why</span>
  </em>
  <span> brought on a throbbing headache that he couldn’t ignore. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Exactly. And if you go around killing the only chance we </span>
  <em>
    <span>got, </span>
  </em>
  <span>we’re back to square one. Have patience, Mitch.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The group fell silent for a moment, a scoff and a growl from their leader putting an end to a conversation. Luckily for Felix, that meant he lived another day, but now that he knew he wasn’t as valuable to the whole group as he had once thought, he had to do something fast. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You ever wonder why we only found him?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>If he only knew who these people were, what Kimball wanted him for. Why was he the game changer?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you mean?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He still couldn’t place why the name felt so familiar. Who was </span>
  <em>
    <span>Kimball?</span>
  </em>
  <span> He knew her, he could almost remember her face, her voice. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know… like, why didn’t we find Locus too?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Locus.</span>
  </em>
  <span> His stomach flipped, twisted into a knot as his breath caught, stuck in the back of his throat. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Locus? </span>
  </em>
  <span>It felt as if a floodgate had opened in his mind, a rush of memories, thoughts and feelings returning. Felix bit back a groan, tried not to make a single sound as the raging pain passed through his mind with the burst of realization. </span>
  <em>
    <span>It was too much, too fast.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He couldn’t make sense of any of it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The name fit a person, an image in his mind. Icy blue eyes, short black hair. This was the first time he had met this person, looking up to this giant of a man. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Bootcamp. </span>
  </em>
  <span>The memory rang as clear as day, their first encounter was an argument.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  
  <em>
    <span>Felix had never seen someone want to pick him up and throw him across a room more than this person he was faced with. And the grin plastered across his own face seemed to only infuriate him more. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“What are you gonna do about it, big guy?” It was a bet. Nobody wanted to mess with Sam. Isaac hadn’t been too fond of the idea until there was money involved. ‘Flick a pea at him, Gates. I’ll give you twenty bucks.’ Nobody at the table expected it, and he couldn’t love the attention more.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Apologize.” The answer was short, Sam’s tone level and calm. If not for his eyes, Isaac would’ve sworn the guy didn’t actually give a shit. It was beyond hilarious, and he couldn’t resist a small burst of laughter.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“And if I don’t?” He couldn’t wipe the grin off his face no matter how hard he tried. It was actually quite the challenge to keep himself from laughing even more. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>What he hadn’t been expecting was to be picked up out of his seat by the collar of his shirt. A small yelp was inevitable, the action was fast, forceful, almost enough to wipe the smirk clean off his face. Almost.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“You will.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>From there, all it took was a swift kick to the gut, and the two broke into a full on brawl. By the end of it, Isaac ended up with a black eye, a busted lip, a bruise on his jaw and a headache that came as a package deal and didn’t go away for two weeks. But, for as small and scrappy as he was, He had managed to do a great deal of damage to the big oaf himself, and landed the two of them doing dishes together for a whole month. A bet worth every cent. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They became friends, teammates, then partners. Memories of the war passed through his mind, memories of Mason, then the two of them working on their own. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Chorus,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he knew why he was on Chorus, why he was here. He knew why he was seeking revenge. </span>
  <em>
    <span>The reds and blues. Tucker.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The idiots outside of the cave were nothing more than his own men. They had turned on him, even contemplated killing them. He couldn’t just </span>
  <em>
    <span>sit and watch that happen, could he?</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Felix searched the cave, spotting his helmet no more than twenty feet away from him. He had to get to it, he knew it worked, he knew Sophia was </span>
  <em>
    <span>waiting</span>
  </em>
  <span> for the right time. Even if it took everything he had in him, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> to get to it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Propping himself up on one elbow, Felix pushed himself off the makeshift bed he had been laying in. He bit down on his cheek, squeezing his eyes shut as he bit back a scream. He waited, letting himself settle before he opened his eyes, blinking back the stars and static clouding his vision. Then he crawled, pulling himself closer and closer, his breaths coming out in quiet, strained groans. It felt like an eternity before it was within his grasp; familiar, heavier than he remembered, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>his.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Felix forced the broken helmet on his head, nothing more than instinct connecting him to the channel he had used only to communicate with </span>
  <em>
    <span>her.</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Vanessa.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” He spoke for the first time in over a week, his voice coming out in more of a raspy hiss. It was terrifying, even to him, and he took a moment to register that it actually belonged to him. He didn’t sound </span>
  <em>
    <span>weak,</span>
  </em>
  <span> that was all that mattered. His plan wouldn’t work if he sounded weak. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Felix almost thought he wasn’t going to get a response. It was late, the war was over, maybe his </span>
  <em>
    <span>dear friend</span>
  </em>
  <span> was actually getting some rest. Though, he would not be disappointed, the line breaking with a familiar </span>
  <em>
    <span>click. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Who the hell </span>
  <em>
    <span>is this?</span>
  </em>
  <span>” There she was, as clear as day. If he was in better shape, he knew he would have laughed. She sounded terrified, and he took the time to appreciate how much he </span>
  <em>
    <span>thrived </span>
  </em>
  <span>off of that.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I think you know who this is.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Felix</span>
  </em>
  <span>… You’re supposed to be dead, I-” She cut herself short, her panic and anger apparent in her voice. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, that hurts, that really does.” Now he really couldn’t resist a laugh, it was low, quiet, absolutely vile. “Why would you trust a group of idiots to kill a </span>
  <em>
    <span>professional</span>
  </em>
  <span> like me?”</span>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p>
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